Pandora's Box
by Amann0407
Summary: This is a story about an engineer that is sent to Pandora a year before the events of the movie. Cynical and sarcastic, who also loves machines more than people, how will he fare when he encounters the Na'vi or the humans on Pandora? Rate and Review!
1. Prologue

**Author's Note: **

**I do not own Avatar or the characters. Wish I did though. To the fans of Golden Dawn and Addition Into the Circle, this is not going to be a really long story, and I already have chapters planned for both stories. I estimate 10-15 chapters depending on what I feel like doing. I wanted to try something new and somewhat different. Please rate and review.**

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**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter 1: Prologue

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**

**Location: ISV_ Serenity_**

**Date: August 15th 2153**

Samuel Borodin woke up with a groan. Of all of the things he expected about being placed in cryo, it was not this. Every joint in his body was stiff, the muscles screaming in protest if he even twitched. The headache was worse than the morning after a 3 day drinking binge. He blinked a few times as he was laying there, flexing his hands and feet to work the kinks out of his muscles. The tube's blue light shone throughout the cryo tube as he laid there, breathing in and out slowly. The tube clicked and hissed as the door opened, the table whirring as it slid out. Sam blinked his eyes at the white light, which seemed bright to him. Slowly, the rest of the ship came into focus, the flurry of activity was apparent as medical personnel were moving around to check on the small army of people emerging from stasis. A doctor in medical scrubs floated over and checked Sam's vitals quickly, the pad in his hand downloading the data quickly.

"Vitals are good, Sergeant. How you feeling?"

"Like shit, Doc," Borodin replied in a slight southern accent, still disoriented.

"Yeah, that is common when you come out of stasis. Grab your gear and get moving. It won't be long until we arrive." The doctor replied as he undid the straps to the chamber and floated away to check on another patient.

Sam propped himself up and hesitantly slid off the small bed. He ran his fingers through his dark hair, looking around to get his bearings from the disorientation that was common due to emerging from cryostasis. He grabbed the rails and glided himself to a row of lockers above his head. Finding the one with his name on it, he opened it up and pulled out the backpack and the duffel bag that was inside and shut the now empty locker. He floated along grabbing the hand rails, following the line of people that were moving to the assembly area. Sam sighed in relief as he felt the pull of gravity on the small platform, landing on his feet. A soldier with brown hair and tanned skin landed next to him with his eyes wide open.

"Why is there gravity here? I thought we were weightless. This shit feels weird, man."

"Because this section is rotating with centrifugal force, simulating gravity. This is the assembly area where we get dressed and get our gear ready. It would be awkward to change in zero gravity." Sam replied wryly, the accent now gone from his voice as he sized up the soldier. He looked young, certainly younger than Sam's thirty-one years. _Or thirty-seven, if you count the trip to get here_. _Now there is a depressing idea if I ever heard one._ He thought to himself as he headed to the nearest changing room. The young soldier followed him anxiously, carrying his own duffel bag as Sam entered the changing room. Both men set down their duffel bags and stripped off their medical gowns, dressing quickly into their uniforms. Sam adjusted the beret on his head and pulled out a stainless-steel ring and put it on his right pinky finger. The young soldier looked at him strangely.

"What kind of ring is that, sir?"

Sam turned around and gazed at the young man, whose uniform nametag read Snipes. He wondered briefly why Snipes was so curious at who he was.

"It is the engineer's ring. A symbol that reminds me of who and what I am."

Snipes nodded.

"I see, sir. Oh, Private First Class Malcolm Snipes. You can just call me Mal, though." He extended his hand.

Sam, after a moment's hesitation, took his hand.

"Sergeant Samuel Borodin. I guess you can just call me Sparky Sam. Seems I inherited that nickname along the way and I have no idea if rank really matters here." He replied dryly.

Malcolm chuckled slightly.

"Yeah, since we are on corporate pay. Sure as hell beats the jungles of Venezuela, peacekeeping and all that bullshit. Which really means sitting on your ass and drinking beer while the natives sneered at you on patrols."

Borodin decided he rather liked the young man and gave a small laugh, slipping back into his southern accent.

"I suppose so. Never was there myself. I was a REMF."

"REMF?" Mal asked in confusion.

"Rear Echelon Mother Fucker. I got to sit on base and fix things like communication relays and sensors. It's what I do."

"Smart thinking there, sir. You get better pay than I do, without the hazards that go with it."

Sam snorted at that.

"Not for long I'm not. Pandora is a death world. Even sitting on base can get quite interesting from what I have heard. Half of the plants want to eat you, and the animals are even worse. So, tell me Mal, why you decide to sign up for this shithole?"

Malcolm gave a small grin as he sat on the metal bench and laced up his boots.

"Oh, the pay was good. Far more than what I normally would make. Applied for it, got the job, and here I am. They wanted experienced veterans like myself. I have, and I quote, "combat experience." I guess just being in Venezuela qualifies me as someone who saw combat. I never really saw anything other than a few long range gun fights with the militia down there. They run like pussies whenever we shot back. Enough about me though, why you decide to come to Pandora?"

"Oh, well….I was bored on Earth, fixing things that were mundane. RDA offered me a job with pay that was lucrative. Enough that I'll be rich and able to retire somewhere around fifty or so. Better than what most people do. Plus, it is exciting to come to a new world. Makes me feel like I can do something worthwhile." Sam shrugged and picked up his bag.

After checking a few items, he made sure the revolver he had was empty and put it in his holster. Mal noticed the gun with interest.

"Nice gun. Didn't know they made revolvers that looked like that anymore."

"A gift from the family. Reliable, plus I like how easy it is to use. They don't make them like they used to, Mal. This here is an antique, a piece of history. This, my friend, is a 44 magnum. Been in my family since my grandfather. It was a gift from my father when he heard I was coming here. They stopped making these in 2094. Would you like to hold it?"

Sam pulled out the gun and handed it over handle first, with the barrel pointing down. Mal took the gun and grinned.

"Pretty heavy gun. Makes you feel more like a man than the Wasp."

Sam snorted in agreement.

"I fired that gun before. Nice and light, but it is a woman's gun. Plus the bullet caliber is tiny, only 9mm. Sissy gun. This…this is a man's gun."

"I'll probably get the Wasp. I'd like to borrow your gun sometime and try it out." Mal grinned and handed it back. Sam put it back in his holster.

"I suppose I can let you fire a few shots. I only got a few hundred rounds of ammo, though. Maybe they got more of it on base." Sam added thoughtfully as a voice spoke over the intercom.

"All personnel proceed to Embarkation Area. Repeat, all personnel proceed to Embarkation Area."

Sam sighed as he looked over to the brown haired man.

"Time to go. Which Valkyrie you riding on?" One or Two?"

"Valkyrie One. You?"

"I'm on Two. Thankfully, I don't have to crawl all of the way down the length of the ship like your sorry ass has to do." Sam couldn't resist the sarcastic reply.

"What can I say, man? They obviously picked the fittest to ride on Valkyrie One. The few, the strong, the brave." Mal smirked back at the ribbing.

"Yeah yeah, all that muscle you built up must have squeezed out your brain. Fittest my ass. You won't live it down if you get eaten by some thanator and get turned into a steaming hunk of shit." Sam couldn't resist the southern accent, despite his best attempts at restraining it. He usually hated the accent, but it seemed appropriate.

"Oh yeah? Well now, that is better than what my dad told me. He told me I wouldn't become shit. Worst case, I prove him wrong. See you on the ground."

"Yeah, nice to see you are an optimist." Sam snorted as Malcolm walked off. He climbed down the ladder, heading down to the docked Valkyrie. He noted that it was zero-g again as he floated down to the waiting shuttle with his gear. Once inside, he floated to one of the seats and strapped himself in, other people were doing the same around him. Sam sat down and waited as the last of the passengers took his seat. A voice spoke over the intercom.

"Valkyrie is ready to depart. Final check on restraints before we take off."

A crewman got up and began to check the restraints of the passengers and the cargo pods that were secured to the floor in webbing. As he moved, another crewman followed behind him distributing exopacks to the passengers. After a few moments, the crewmen walked back to their seats. One of them hit the intercom and reported to the pilot.

"All passengers and cargo secured. Ready for departure."

"Valkyrie departing. Detach….3….2….1…..detach!"

Sam closed his eyes and waited as the shuttle detached from the main ship. Strangely he felt nothing as his thoughts ran through his head. In what seemed to be an eternity for him, but could only have been a few minutes, he began to feel the pull of gravity as the shuttle orbited down to Hell's Gate. After a while, he felt the shuttle switch to jet engines as it began to slow down, his stomach gave an uncomfortable roll. _God, I hate flying. I love machines more than people usually, but the act of flying is just unnatural. If God wanted us to fly, he would have given us wings._ He thought dryly to himself as the shuttle lurched, signaling that they had landed. An officer got up from his seat and started barking orders.

"Get out the restraints! Exopacks on! Get those Exopacks on! You want to get high off of the Pandora atmosphere, do it on your own time! Go straight inside when the ramp opens! Do not pause to admire the scenery ladies!"

Everyone began to put on their exopacks as Sam complied with the orders, making sure it was secured. The mask pressurized as air began to flow. Satisfied with the mask, Sam picked up the backpack and his duffel bag as the ramp began to lower. The officer gestured for everyone to go inside as the ramp hit the tarmac. People began to jog off the shuttle as Sam followed behind obediently, taking a quick look around at the large base. He had arrived at last.


	2. Assignment

**Author's Notes:**

I do not own Avatar. Otherwise, I'd probably be writing on a 5000 dollar laptop instead of the 2004 era one I use now.

Oh, and thank you to the three reviewers that have replied so far. Thank you. I will try to answer any questions left in a review via PM or in Author Notes. Leave reviews please! My writing improves when reviews happen, and I like to satisfy my readers. Now, onto the next chapter! These aren't the firefly references you are looking for. :P

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**Pandora's Box**

**Chapter 2: Assignment**

Sam hated speeches. They rarely said anything worthwhile that he needed to hear. It was part of who he was. So it was with some surprise when he sat down in the mess hall when a scarred older man entered the room and waited at the front of the cafeteria. A tap on his shoulder got him to look up and see Mal grinning as he sat down.

"Don't mind if I help myself to the seat, do you?"

"Well, we must accommodate the ladies, Mal." Sam replied with a deadpan voice.

"Hey, it is always ladies first. So what does that make you, Sam?" Both men hushed as the older man at the front of the room began to speak.

"I am Colonel Miles Quaritch, head of security for operations on Pandora. While you are here on Pandora, you must obey the ground rules laid out for your safety. That is, if you wish to survive. As head of security, it is my job to keep you alive." Quaritch paused to look around.

"I will fail some of you. So to make my job easier, you must learn the rules. Pandora's rules. Rule 1, always assume everything outside of the base wants to eat you. Be it plant or animal. Rule number 2, stay in groups. Never, and I repeat, NEVER wander outside the base on your own. The likelihood that we will find only your weapon outside the gate half empty is very high if you wander on your own."

As Quaritch was talking, Sam noticed the wasp revolver hanging from Quaritch's holster and snickered. He hit Mal on the arm and nodded toward it. Mal looked toward the gun and smirked with a knowing grin.

"Sissy gun, Mal. Tailor made for ladies like you." Sam whispered to Mal.

"Oh hush, not all of us carry antiques as old as you, old geezer." Mal whispered back.

"Is there a problem, ladies? Or would you two like a room?"

Both men snapped their heads up to find Quaritch standing behind them. He was giving both men an evil eye.

"No, sir." Both men mumbled.

"Good, then perhaps you should pay attention to some of the rules. It is a real pain in the ass to replace people, even you two sorry excuses for soldiers."

"Yes sir!" They caroused.

Quaritch gave a small smile as he turned away.

"As I was saying, rule number 6 is if you are in distress, you radio in right away and sit tight unless ordered to do otherwise. Wandering around the jungle looking for you is not anyone's idea of fun, as you will come quickly to realize while you are here. That will be all for now. A copy of the duty roster is posted in the Watch Office on level 3. You will then report to your respective CO's for duty. Dismissed!"

The noise began to grow as people began to get up and leave. Sam and Mal followed the crowd of people as they exited. The two men walked side by side, joking all the while as they headed toward level 3. They stopped in their tracks as they observed the small army of people standing outside the office, checking the roster one by one.

"Oh fuck this! I'm not waiting an hour to figure out what I will be doing, my shift rotations, and who I report to! Come on!" Sam snarled in disgust as he walked away.

"But….we are supposed to find out! How else are we to find out?" Mal asked him as he looked back reluctantly.

"That's easy, Mal. These things are printed up, they are probably on the network here. Do you think every officer reports to that little bulletin board just to find out what duty they are assigned to? No, we don't live in the tool age like those blue monkeys out there." Sam replied as he looked for a terminal.

"Ok, but…"

Sam cut him off.

"No buts, Mal. Stick with me, kid. You will learn a lot about the Corps. You see, where there is a will, there is a way." He indicated a terminal in one of the lab rooms. Walking into the room like he owned the place, he sat down at the terminal and began to type quickly. The looks from the scientists were poisonous, but Sam ignored them as he searched in the RDA database.

"Aha! Got it! Hey Mal, you get the lofty job of waste extraction! Have fun shoveling shit!" Sam drawled the last sentence.

"What? That's bullshit!" Mal leaned in to read. His face turned red as he realized he was tricked.

"You asshole!" Mal exclaimed as Sam roared with laughter.

"I couldn't resist…the look on your face!" Sam had tears running down his face as Mal punched him in the arm.

"I'm security escort it appears, Sam! Hope you got into waste extraction just for that little joke! After all, that is an engineering job right?"

Sam's face turned serious as he glanced toward the computer screen. Mal gave a self-satisfied smirk as Sam read on tersely.

"Well, at least I am not in that. I appear to be in Maintenance. I am reporting to a Captain John Reynolds."

Mal looked over.

"Well, just as glad you aren't in waste extraction. You are a friend and all, and I'd hate to have to come near you after that. Imagine the horrible stench that would radiate from you…."

"Hey! Hey! I don't want to picture that! I want to eat dinner later, you know!" Sam raised his hand in protest as Mal copied his information down.

"Thanks Sam! I think it would be best to stick together after all! With my good looks and charm, and your experience, we rock, man!" His voice dropped to a conspiratorial whisper.

"Listen man, for all of the trouble you saved me, I bet I could find some fine women for you. I mean, women you would…" Mal indicated a slow thrusting motion with his hands and waist.

"I get the picture, Mal. I also probably got more pussy than you have dreamed of, boy! Let experience talk for once. Youth is not that much of an advantage." Sam replied dryly.

"The key word in that sentence is 'got', gramps. They like them young, not mature! Oh yeah! But I am generous. I am sure I can convince a lovely lady to see to a lonely soul like yourself…" Mal gave an infectious grin.

"Yeah yeah….dinner? Getting late." Sam checked his watch.

"Sure, just don't forget to take your pills."

"Oh shut up."

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**Location: Hell's Gate**

**Date: August 16th 2153**

Sergeant Borodin walked along the corridor toward Captain Reynolds' office. He saw the captain sitting in the office as he approached the glass door. The man appeared to be his age, although he could be 10 years older than him. Sam had no way of knowing if he was merely a college graduate turned soldier, or if he climbed through the ranks from enlisted.

He knocked on the door, intent on finding out more about Reynolds. If he was to serve under this man, he had to know how to deal with Reynolds. Commander and subordinate relations were key to the survival of a unit, something Borodin learned quickly running a squad of engineers. The men looked to you for guidance, and you had to provide them with it while at the same time earning their respect. Reynolds did not appear to notice the knock until Samuel knocked again.

"Come in!" Reynolds said without looking up from the paperwork in front of him.

Sam walked to the front of the desk and saluted.

"Sergeant Samuel Borodin reports as ordered, sir!" Reynolds looked up and returned the salute.

"At ease, Sergeant."

Sam placed his hands behind his back as he stood, more relaxed than he was before. Reynolds peered at the man in front of him, his glasses framing the blue eyes and blonde hair that reflected cold intelligence.

"I have read your record, Sergeant Borodin. It is distinguished, and honorable. Satisfactory performances and your previous CO's gave good recommendations. You could have made officer had you stayed in the service. So why didn't you?"

"Sir?" Sam was confused.

"Then let me explain, Sergeant. You are an engineer. Not only that, you are a college graduate with honors in electrical engineering. A master's degree from what I have read here. Your reports from your previous commanding officers stated you were good at what you did, and you were on the fast track to promotion." Reynolds leaned forward, his hands placed on his desk flat.

"You do not seem like the type to leave all of that behind simply for the paycheck. Engineers are not usually the type to run off from that kind of opportunity without some consideration. Certainly not traveling 4 light years in cryostasis to end up on Pandora, a place that would make Hell seem like paradise. Had this been on earth, this would have been the assignments given to people on the commander's shit list. You do not fit, Sergeant." Reynolds stated bluntly.

"If we are to work together, I must know my subordinates and how they will react. I must know the men under me and what their motives are. So tell me, Sergeant, why are you here?" His cold gaze locked with Samuel's green eyes.

It made Sam uncomfortable as their eyes locked. It made him feel like the eyes were piercing his soul and looking into him to find something. After a moment, he replied.

"Permission to speak freely, sir?"

Reynolds waved his hand.

"You may do so. I encourage it, as a matter of fact. I want frank opinions from my men, and I have no use for suck-ups or kissasses."

"Well sir, the money is certainly a factor. They paid me quite well to do here, but…."

"But what, Sergeant?"

Sam hesitated. This was the moment of truth, the moment to decide if he could trust the man with the real reason why he was here. After a moment of fighting with himself, he decided to answer with the truth.

"Well sir….I took an oath when I joined the Order of the Engineers to benefit mankind and to advance our species. So far, I have not really done that, as a military engineer. I repaired things and made sure communication was made easier, but I have not done anything to really fulfill my obligation to mankind. This is a matter of importance to an engineer, Captain. I believe I could be of use out here, benefiting mankind. Sure the company is here to make money, but it is more than that." Sam paused for breath as he continued.

"This metal…that we mine here. It is more than a dollar sign for corporate executives to gloat over. This is the salvation of our species. This can solve our energy crisis, enable us to build great colony ships to travel the stars and release the burden of overpopulation on Earth, and advance the technology of our species as a whole. When I was offered the opportunity to come here and help in that goal, I could not refuse. This is where I need to be, where I belong."

Captain Reynolds blinked at that, not quite expecting that statement.

"Idealism dies hard out here, Sergeant. This is literally a death world, with a hostile alien race and environment. This is the deadliest environment known to mankind, and I have lost people under my command here. Some believe that we should exterminate the Na'vi and carpet bomb the planet with nuclear weapons, and then take what we want by force."

Samuel shifted uncomfortably at that statement. It chilled him to hear genocide talked about so calmly. Reynolds seemed to know what he was thinking.

"Fortunately, I am not one of them. Quaritch and the deceased Commander Falco might believe that, but they obviously never read their Sun Tzu. Specifically the line that states: 'The best kind of victory is a bloodless one.' I am a firm believer that the Na'vi can be worked with and persuaded. Wars are begun by mis-communication and by averting that, the ultimate victory can be achieved without bloodshed. A war is the last thing I want to see, because I will be the one fighting it, and I will lose many of my men if I do. Some of the Na'vi even speak English, and we can show them our intentions and they can understand us eventually. I respect Quaritch, but he is forgetting what a commanding officer should be thinking of, and not what his ego and hatred tells him to do. I am not entirely fond of the Na'vi since they have done things like kill civilians that were not even armed, but cold extermination would make us no worse than the Nazis of the 20th century."

Reynolds leaned back in his chair.

"Unfortunately, Quaritch is my superior officer and I cannot override him. I can perhaps change his mind slowly, but that will take time. It is nice to have someone that is not purely here for the paycheck. You are an idealist, Sergeant, and a man I can be friends with. In time, I can eventually be promoted to Quaritch's position when he rotates home. You would make a fine addition to my team. If you work well with me and vice versa, we can get Mr. Selfridge his rocks, and we can avoid bloodshed at the same time. You with me, Sergeant?"

Sam was taken aback at the frankness of the captain, unsure of how to reply to such a plain statement and question.

"Well sir…..yes, sir."

Reynolds smiled for the first time.

"Good. Then we will have no problems. In order to convince Quaritch that you would make a good officer and fulfill your purpose here, you will have to do exemplary work. We are in need of good engineers, and often times, the specialists fill two or even three roles. I believe you would be best suited to fixing and maintaining all of the vital communication and sensor arrays that are in operation. Without them, we are both deaf and blind. Pandora plays hell with electronics with the higher amounts of radiation, and they are constantly in need of repair." Reynolds took a deep breath.

"This is a vital post, Sergeant, and we are short of specialists like you. It is why you are getting paid so well by the company. If you do your job correctly, I can see that you get promoted to an officer position within 6 months easily. Quaritch is due to rotate home in 2 or so years, and we can fix many of the snafu's that have occurred recently when he leaves. Your goals are compatible with my own, and that works fine by me." Reynolds paused and handed over a key and a computer pad.

"Your office will be down the hall from me and you report directly to me. Office 14. Repair requests will be delivered to your terminal. Your assignments will be very dangerous, especially traveling outside the base, but the most vital in my opinion. We have plenty of mechanics, scientists, and grunts, but not very many electrical engineers."

"Very well, sir. I can do that sort of work. I am very familiar with it. I like machines better than most people." Sam nodded, giving a friendly smile.

"That is fine as long as you don't talk to them."

"Um…..I kinda do, sir." Sam seemed rather embarrassed to say it.

"Oh, well as long as it doesn't affect work performance. You can call me John when we are not on duty." Reynolds stood up and offered his hand, which Sam immediately took.

"Sam, though I sometimes am known as Sparky."

"Sparky Sam? Well, it fits I suppose." Reynolds laughed.

"Yes, sir."

"Well, you better get to it. Your predecessor toured home a month before you got here. I can safely say, you will be occupied, Sam." Reynolds looked down at the files and sighed.

"As a matter of fact, so am I. Paperwork, the bane of any real soldier. Armies do not crawl on their stomachs, they slide on paper…." He smiled at the bad joke grimly.

"It was a pleasure meeting you, sir. I am going to get acquainted, with my office."

"Dismissed."

Sam saluted and walked out of the office as Reynolds looked down at his desk. He had a lot of work ahead of him, but he felt progress was made in his long-term goals.


End file.
